


For the Sake of the Mission

by IcyPanther



Series: Fic of the Month [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Angst, Big Brother, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Matt Holt is a Good Sibling, Matt Holt is multi-lingual, Matt Holt speaks Spanish, Non-Consensual Touching, Protective Matt Holt, Whump, humans treated as objects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: Matt and the Rebels are in need of a very hard to get ore, mined and guarded by a race that honors technology and decorum. Matt has the first part covered but he’s in need of an assist on the second part. Enter Lance. Matt isn’t entirely sure about the team up but he reevaluates his opinion quickly as Lance takes the lead and charms the king and his son.Perhaps a little too much.The prince has eyes only for Lance and, to Matt’s growing unease, hands as well. Lance though insists through their code he’s fine, he’s okay, continue the mission. But as the prince grows bolder and more invasive with his touches, Matt cannot look away any longer.
Relationships: Matt Holt & Lance
Series: Fic of the Month [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660933
Comments: 73
Kudos: 597





	For the Sake of the Mission

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** Set season four or five  
>  **Warning notes:** Non-consensual touching; nothing graphic but it could be uncomfortable

“—be entirely humbled, your grace, to present our gift to you for your generous consideration of our project.”

Lance ended his presentation with a low bow, holding out Matt’s creation to the large, blob-like alien sitting above them on the dais, his equally large son next to him, Prince Tobblain, and an advisor of some sort standing at attention just behind. 

Matt held his breath. 

If King Tobblein refused their gift and further invitation to speak, then the Plunarim Ore that his planet was rich in and that the Rebels needed for the special shield they were designing — one capable of reflecting an ion cannon — was out of reach. The planet of Plunar was not allied with the Coalition nor the Galra, but anyone they found worthy they would sell their ore too. They were very particular on ceremony and presentation though, which was why Matt had reached out to Voltron to see if the beautiful, diplomatic Princess Allura would assist him in securing said ore. She had laughed and said that flattery would not sway her, to which Matt had replied with a wink that it wasn’t flattery if it was true.

She had smiled and thanked him but said she was unable to do so at this time; the Coalition could not spare her in this delicate stage as they worked to secure another ally. But, if he would like, she would recommend Lance assist him.

Matt hadn’t been sure what to think. He didn’t know the other boy very well and what little he’d seen, while friendly (other than almost being glared to death when Matt flirted with the princess), hadn’t seemed to demonstrate the decorum he was seeking; refined and polished and well-spoken, because Matt was under no illusion those were not his strengths either. He might be able to speak and translate ten languages and decode nearly anything he encountered, but the marketing sales pitch was not him. 

Yes, Allura had insisted. Lance had been assisting her for several deca-phoebs now with such matters and he had a natural charm and grace that she felt would appeal to the Plunaran king. And Matt couldn’t say no to that.

Lance had arrived at the rebel base Matt was stationed on that morning and outfitted with a matching uniform as it was important he not be identified as being with Voltron since the project was for the Rebels and even though Plunar said they were neutral in the war one could never be too careful. 

Matt debriefed him on the ride over about the particulars of their visit and had started to explain the schematics of the shields to which Lance had held his hand up with an “ _a_ _h ah ah,”_ although an easy smile took any sting out of the interruption.

 _“I don’t talk genius,”_ Lance had told him and as light as the words were Matt had spent far too many years seeing the same, fleeting hurt expression Katie made when she spoke of how none of the other kids would talk to her because she wasn’t “normal” and they couldn’t understand her, “ _but I do smooth talk and that’s what I’m here for. I’ll charm the king and then you impress him with your science and we’ll have that ore before you can say farkledapple. That’s, er, some sort of Altean straw. Coran says it all the time,”_ Lance said with a tiny shrug, misinterpreting Matt’s expression as confusion for the Altean word rather than the mild consternation brewing in his stomach at how...how _blasé_ Lance was about his role in this, as though being able to talk to people, _understand_ people, was of less value than understanding technology and science. 

Now wasn’t the time though nor was Matt the person who should be saying such, but he made a mental note to mention it casually to the princess or perhaps the Altean advisor, who Lance clearly had a soft spot for.

And as much as Lance had roundaboutly put himself down, once they reached Plunar he had taken the reins and Matt had sat back and watched, amazed, as Lance seamlessly greeted their escorts, had them laughing and before they’d been heralded into the receiving hall had learned some sort of dance move that involved a full body wiggle (which sent the Plunarans’ rolls of… gel, for lack of a better word, rolling but merely made Lance look like he was trying to do the worm while standing straight up).

Lance had sobered some as as they were introduced to the king, more respectful than familiar in tone, but he had not lost his charm or his smile as he introduced himself and Matt and now made to present the gift — a toy similar to the ones human infants played with that had different sounds and buttons and knobs but the aliens had never seen anything like it and the Rebels had been in awe over it and the Plunarans valued ingenuity and so it would be a received well — and inquire as to further audience.

The king’s large lips pulled back, as purple as the rest of him, and he turned to the advisor at his side, and spoke, not words that Matt could pick apart but a series of low grumbles and rolls. 

He felt sweat sliding down the back of his neck as the other Plunaran nodded and then turned to face the front once more.

“His majesty hears your request and will garner further audience. Proceed now with your tribute so he may receive it.”

Lance rose from his bow and flashed Matt a quick grin, ocean eyes dancing, and he proceeded up the short flight of steps where he bowed once more, offering the keyboard sized item out. “For your amusement, your majesty.”

A large, gelatinous hand reached out and plucked the gift from Lance, turning it over in his hands. 

“I’m fond of the blue button,” Lance said, straightening and flashing what Matt could make out as an impish smile and far far _far_ too casual in the face of the royal who valued high decorum.

But to his surprise the king reached out and pressed the indicated one and immediately the soft sounds of ocean waves emanated. The king let out a little burble that sounded like delight. “What sound is this?” he asked.

“The ocean, your grace,” Lance said. “A great expanse of water that stretches further than the eye can see, full of rolling waves and great beauty and unfathomable depth.”

Matt could hear the note of unintended homesickness in the words but the king likely only heard the great descriptors and he nodded regally. “Fascinating. Is it not fascinating, Prince Tobblain?”

Matt directed his gaze to the son and he accepted the gift only to hand it immediately to an attendant who practically sprinted to his side before he dropped it, his eyes instead focused on Lance.

He said something in the Plunarans’ native tongue and his father responded in kind before he turned to Lance. “My son wishes to examine you, Rebel Lance, if you would be so inclined. He is rather taken with the different species and has not encountered one such as yourself before.”

And although it was phrased as a request Matt could tell it was not as the Plunarans were not often denied what they wanted and that went doubly so for royalty. 

Something though more than the request had an uneasy tingle beginning at the base of Matt’s spine. There was something in the son’s gaze, even on the flabby features, that looked more than passing interest in the name of education.

There was something possessive.

Lustful.

“Sure,” Lance cocked his head with a disarming smile. “Er, what would you like me to—?”

He broke off as the son waddled his way out of the chair to Lance’s side and one large hand rose immediately to prod at Lance’s cheek.

“Oh wow, that’s cold!” Lance exclaimed, although the tone was light. 

Matt still didn’t miss the way the slender body stiffened ever so as the son pushed his gelatinous fingers into Lance’s mouth while his other hand was pinching Lance’s cheek and pulling the flesh taut.

“Wonderful and glorious King Tobblein,” Matt addressed, “I was hoping—”

“Matt would be honored to discuss the details of our request for your amazing ore,” Lance cut in, Tobblain’s fingers having trailed out of his mouth and were now prodding at his ears. “If you would be so willing.”

He didn’t look once at Matt but the message was loud and clear.

Stand down. Everything was fine.

Matt had told him of the code words the Rebels used in potentially compromised circumstances to alert if they needed an assist or not due to the fact that if negotiations began to move south — Galra allies, too steep of a price, too probing of a question — that they could subtly engage in an exit plan, which was needed as Plunar was incredibly well guarded and doing so would be complicated, but it was better to be too prepared than not prepared enough.

‘Wonderful’ denoted potential cause of alarm, which Matt hadn’t thought he’d be throwing out this early but he did not like the look of the son, or rather how he was looking at Lance.

‘Amazing’ stood for everything was all right, proceed as planned.

And ‘extraordinary’ meant get ready, they were pulling out now (either via an extraction team or on their own, the latter of which would be happening if needed in this situation).

“Rebel Matt, you may proceed,” the king’s voice recaptured his attention and the words registered a tick later.

But rather than the elation Matt should have felt at such a request, at the very thing the Rebels had working on for the past three deca-phoebs, he felt only unease.

This wasn’t right.

But Lance had given the go ahead and despite his young age he was capable of making his own calls and Matt wouldn’t belittle him by disagreeing further. 

He would keep an eye on him though.

But as the minutes went by Matt found his eyes having to remain more and more focused on the king as he could feel the frown that his attention was not undivided and they could not, after finally making it this far, afford to offend the Plunarans. 

Still though, in the glimpses he’d had before that, he didn’t like how the prince was touching Lance, his hands trailing down over the armor and tugging at it in places, his goopy hands encircling a suddenly too small and fragile looking neck.

Lance didn’t say anything though to alert Matt that he was in need of an assist and so Matt forced himself to ignore the pair to the right of where he was now conversing with the king.

But then…

Lance had stopped talking.

He’d been keeping up a pretty steady stream of background babble — “Yeah, that’s called hair, it comes in all sorts of colors and lengths and textures on humans.” — “I know this one other alien who thinks my ears are pretty hideous but my mamá says they look like seashells; you can find those in the ocean, actually.” — “Humans run a pretty steady ninety eight degrees, which is _way_ warmer than you, huh?” — and it took Matt far too long to realize why he was suddenly able to clearly hear the advisor’s pen on the parchment recording notes.

That…

That could not mean anything good.

He’d flicked his gaze over as the king looked to his advisor, speaking in their tongue, and his heart had stuttered.

Tobblain’s hands had wormed their way under the rebel armor, pushing up the shirt beneath and revealing Lance’s stomach, where he was caressing the now visible mocha skin while his other was back on Lance’s face, completely covering his mouth and stroking his cheek.

And Lance…

Lance was trembling, his eyes closed. 

He had not pulled away.

He…

He was _letting_ the prince touch him in ways he clearly wasn’t comfortable with because… because...

And Matt felt his stomach bottom out at that realization even moreso than the invasive touch he was witnessing.

Lance was doing it for the sake of the mission. 

He was violently reminded of his observations from the trip over, of how Lance had undervalued himself in favor of Matt’s own talents. And this…

This was an extension of that.

He was willing to do… do _anything_ to make sure the mission succeeded, even at the cost of his own well-being and Matt had a sinking feeling this was not the first time Lance had put himself in harm’s way to accomplish such (although he prayed all other occurrences had been more of on the battlefield than whatever _this_ was).

And he was not going to let this continue. Not under his watch.

Fuck the mission.

“Lance,” the boy’s name came out more sharply than intended and he felt every eye land on him then.

What he cared about though were the ocean blue ones that met his and the fact the prince’s hand lifted from Lance’s mouth, although the fact it went instead now to caress the side of his face wasn’t really all that much better.

But while there was fear, something else Matt couldn’t identify, swimming in those dark eyes there was something else.

Determination.

“Everything, everything’s amazing, Matt,” Lance said although based on the slip of his speech it most definitely wasn’t and he had lost that confident lilt to his voice.

“Rebel Matt,” the king summoned him again and Matt forcibly made himself pivot. “Hearing your request I find it worthy of my ore. Now we will discuss the subject of paym—”

Lance’s sharp gasp had Matt wrenching his head back, he didn’t care how rude it was, and the sight that greeted him made his blood boil.

The prince had slipped one hand beneath the waistband of Lance’s pants. 

“Lanc—”

“Everything’s w-wonderful,” the boy stuttered, coloring and paling at the same time and Matt watched the hand shifting beneath the uniform, drifting from the front now to the sides and based on the bulge feeling out Lance’s inner thigh.

Matt was done with this. They were extracting. _Now._

“Your most extraordinary majesty,” Matt wrenched his eyes back to the king. “I—”

“We shall discuss payment now, yes?” and the king’s expression was narrowed.

Offended.

“Y-yes, your majesty,” Lance said before Matt could tell him where he could put his damn payment. “We would be de— ” he let out another gasp, “de-delighted. What, what payment might we make for your amazing ore?”

Matt tried not to gape.

Lance was withdrawing his call for help. He didn’t want to pull out.

Not when they were this close.

Matt grit his teeth and turned to the king. 

“As he says,” he managed. “What payment might be fitting for the ore we request? We have GAC for monetary value as well as numerous technlo—”

Matt was cut off this time by the low growling tongues coming from the son and his father responded in kind.

He looked back towards Lance, feeling like he was in some twisted ping-pong match, and the boy was still pale although his cheeks remained high spots of color.

The prince’s hand was still down his pants and the other had come down as well from his cheek, pressed up under his shirt and armor and looking to be stroking his chest.

It had also wrapped around him from behind, pinning him in the embrace where stepping away would take actual effort and no doubt was against all decorum in this setting.

Matt didn’t care.

He was this close to pulling out his hidden shock sticks — all weapons otherwise forced to have been left behind on their ship after being inspected by the guards — and attacking. 

This was…

“We do not require more GAC,” King Tobblein spoke and Matt once more faced him, “and while we are interested in your technologies, my request is much more simple in nature.”

Matt did not like where this was going.

“I shall give you the ore you require in exchange for the Rebel Lance. He is to be,” the king’s lips turned up in a smile in direct contrast to the horror crossing Matt’s face, “a birthday present for my son. He is quite taken with him.”

“No,” Matt blurted it out before Lance could try and speak first.

Matt was afraid of what he might offer.

But he also wasn’t going to let all of Lance’s sacrifices be negated just like that.

It was time he tried to barter and he tried to mimic Lance’s flowing, sincer pattern of speech. And if it didn’t work…

Then that was that. And he didn’t care.

“Lance is a valuable part of our organization. Not only that,” and he couldn’t help the fact his voice was growing harder, “but humans don’t trade other humans for wares, no matter how extraordinary they may be. We offer the GAC or our technologies or I am afraid there is no deal.”

“This is most displeasing to hear,” Tobblein rumbled.

Matt’s right hand tightened on the shock prod hidden just beneath his backplate. He knew Olia would understand when he reported back to her that he’d assaulted the king. 

The king said something to his son and Matt barely held in his sigh of relief as the gelatinous hands retreated from Lance as the prince turned to his father and stamped his feet and waved his arms.

A temper tantrum.

His father said something sharply back and Lance’s small inhale as he was wrenched into a tight embrace was swallowed up by the near wail Tobblain made as he clung tight to him.

The king snarled something in answer and his son shook his head, still loudly crying.

Tobblein barked out something and a moment later the far doors to the room were opening and several guards were rushing in, two of them the ones Lance had been joking with not even a varga ago.

Matt tensed.

Were they about to attack?

They went though for Tobblain and pulled him away from Lance and Matt watched as the guard Lance had learned the dance move from gave his shoulder a brief, tight squeeze while his other hand, hidden by his bulk in the direction of the king, pulled down Lance’s shirt and made sure it was brushing the top of his pants, before he turned and escorted the prince out with several other guards.

“I am deeply sorry for my son’s behavior,” King Tobblein spoke. “He is still young and does not yet understand the finer points of negotiations.”

He did not apologize for his son’s actions prior to that. 

Matt bristled.

“Your apology is not needed but accepted graciously, your majesty,” Lance stepped in next to Matt, not a trace of his earlier unease present. “May we continue negotiations for the ore with our previous extended offer?”

The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur as Lance successfully negotiated a price far, far below what Matt had thought they would have to pay, flattery and charm interspersed with every other word that had the king nearly glowing.

The ore was loaded onto the ship without issue, the GAC and technology items exchanged, and with cheerful goodbyes to the crew who had loaded it and more formal bows and thanks to the king before they left the receiving hall, they were airborne and headed back for the rebel base.

Lance was quiet as Matt navigated them out of planet’s gravitational pull but once Matt had engaged the autopilot and pivoted in his pilot’s chair he spoke.

“And mission was a success,” he grinned.

It did not meet his eyes.

“So on a scale of one to ten with one being jell-o and ten being pudding how would you rate the—”

“Are you okay?” Matt interrupted.

Because he wasn’t.

He’d just watch the teen being molested in front of him.

“What? Of, of course. I—”

“Lance,” Matt cut him off, honey eyes flashing, “do not lie to me.”

And Lance dropped his gaze.

Matt was reminded once more as slender shoulders rolled in and fingers clasped at one another on his lap, just how _young_ Lance was. How young all of the Paladins were. 

“What were you thinking?” Matt asked, trying to keep it from coming off as too harsh but based on the flinch he hadn’t done so well.

“I—”

“And don’t you dare say the mission.”

Lance’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click.

“That was not okay,” Matt said. 

“I’m sorry,” came a whispered apology.

“What? No! That’s not… okay, look, yes. But no.” Matt ran a frustrated hand through his hair, not sure how he wanted to say this.

Apparently he was going to have the earlier conversation he’d planned to bring up with Allura with Lance himself.

“Look,” he finally said. “This mission was important. But _nothing_ is more important than your safety. I trusted and respected your decision when the prince made that first move because you aren’t a child; you’re technically an adult and a Paladin of Voltron. But what that alien did… that was not okay, Lance. And it’s not okay that you’re willing to take that kind of abuse or put yourself in harm’s way for a mission. 

“I know,” Matt held up his hand as he heard Lance take an inhale as though to speak, “I know you were trying to help and I appreciate what you’ve done for the Rebels in getting us this ore. But you were in clear distress — you called out the code, Lance, don’t deny it — and we should have removed ourselves right then. You should not have to do, do _that,_ to secure us a successful mission. _Nothing,”_ Matt’s eyes bored into deep blue, “is worth it.”

“I’m sor—”

“I said no more apologies,” Matt interjected. “I… I don’t want you to apologize. I want you to be _safe._ Now. Later. Think about _yourself_. Don’t hurt yourself to help another; your friends don’t want you to do that. That’s all I’m asking. Okay?”

He saw the boy swallow.

And then he gave a small nod.

“Can… can you not mention it to…?” Lance trailed off, color dusting his cheeks.

“I won’t say anything,” Matt promised. “But if I find out from Katie, and I _will,_ that you’ve gone and done something that winds up with you hurt in _any_ way then I will. I’ll tell the princess and the advisor and I’ll even tell Shiro and your friend, Hunk.”

Lance paled.

“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” Matt told him. “If you’re not going to look out for you then you damn well bet the rest of us are going to. Got it?”

Matt was slightly alarmed but honestly more relieved as his words drew a sniffle and a glimpse of overbright eyes before Lance nodded.

“ _Gracias,”_ came the quiet response and Matt smiled.

“ _De nada._ ”

Ocean eyes widened. “Wait. You speak Spanish?”

 _“Hablo diez idiomas,”_ Matt responded. “ _Seis de la Tierra y cuatro de aquí arriba.”_

Lance blinked at him.

And then his lips turned up into the most genuine, soft smile Matt had seen yet. 

This was the real Lance, Matt realized, behind all those other faces. This one was real.

 _“Háblame de tu familia,”_ he said gently, “ _Me encantaría escuchar algunas historias tuyas.”_

Lance’s eyes lit up and without any further prompting he launched into a story involving his youngest older sister and her attempt at cooking, which rivaled Shiro’s (lack of) skill.

Matt sat back, listened, and added one more person to the growing list he called his space family.

And under his watch no one would ever lay unwanted hands on Lance again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Fic of the Month from May. Feeling nostalgic from reading _Color_ for Friday updates so even though I know better, here I am.
> 
> If you enjoyed the fic, please please do leave a comment below detailing what you liked about it (the small details make my day!) Emotional support and validation is super important and appreciated and your comments mean the world. **If you can take the time to read a fic, you can take the time to leave a comment.** ** _Please_** don’t just read and run! Thank you!
> 
> 💥 **(Like my works? Want to read even MORE? Visit my[Tumblr, icypantherwrites](https://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com) for details.)💥**  
> 


End file.
